


An Unquenchable Flame

by shemlentrash (Jess_X)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Minor Violence, Nightmares, PTSD flashbacks, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex, S&M, Shameless Smut, Smut, dominant cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:34:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3295613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_X/pseuds/shemlentrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen's traumatic past grips him and won't let go. When his nightmares overwhelm him and briefly endanger the the woman he loves, the ever loyal Inquisitor, they both understand that something is going to have to change if they want things to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Each Night In Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to give this some angsty build up for a couple of chapters, just so that the smut could have a bit of context (yay, failed attempts at real writing), but this was really ultimately written for the smut and only the smut. Anyway, I've got a lot of DA fics in the works, but I just really needed to write something crappy and full of smut for my own entertainment.
> 
> Warning for what could be construed as domestic violence in the first chapter (brief, and accidental), and for kink further down the road.

The world spun as Helena woke with a jolt. She blinked back the sleepy haze, attempting to ground herself, sensing something was wrong. The large warm bundle next to her was trembling. Large hands were gripping the sheets beneath them, his strong, scarred knuckles turning white under pressure. She sighed, her brow knotting in concern as she watched Cullen’s face bead with sweat. In the heart of a nightmare, her usually hardened Commander looked a broken child. It shattered her, every time. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to it. They had only slept together a few times over the last month – since their first time in his office – but this was hardly the first time his suffering had woken her up.

“Cullen,” she cooed softly, and she sounded oddly small in the vastness of her dark quarters. He did not wake, but made a low sound in the back of his throat like a warning grunt. His lip was curling, the flesh of his facial scar wrinkling as he grimaced. She shifted closer, so that her lithe body was pressed against him. His skin was damp and hot. “Cullen,” she said again, reaching up to touch his face. “My love. I’m here. You’re here. You’re not back there. It’s just a dream. Come back to me.”

Moonlight was pouring in through the tall windows, illuminating the vein pulsing in Cullen’s neck. She placed a hand on his chest, scooted upward a little, and planted a gentle kiss on his jaw. “Cullen,” she breathed again. She was so tired. “Wake up, Cullen.” He was starting to whimper loudly into the night, now. “Please. Commander, please. Wake up. I need you to – ”

It happened so fast, she could not have foreseen it. Within a second, she was flat on her back, and Cullen’s hands were around her throat, pinning her to the mattress with all his weight. “No!” he spat ferociously. His eyes were wide and wild and sparking with rage, but even as the pain gripped her and the shock held her frozen, she could tell he wasn’t really seeing her. “You will not have me! I will _end_ you, demon!” His voice was practically a growl, and it rumbled through her, crushing her.

“C- Cullen – ”

Her vision was blurring. She had been too surprised to gather her strength to throw him off at first, and now as her air supply dwindled so did that strength. She clawed at his massive hands wringing her neck, digging in with all the force her chewed down nails could muster. “C- ”

She gasped silently. In a desperate attempt for her life, she began to thrash beneath his heavy figure. She wanted to use her magic, but she feared it would be the last straw for him, for one so fearful of mages, and he might -

“You cannot have me! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you for what you’ve – “

Cullen’s voice broke. He sounded on the verge of sobs, but he still did not let go.

Was this how it was to end? Helena’s thoughts were a million miles away, but in that instant she felt that this was it. After everything – after Haven, and Adamant, and all the creatures she’d faced; after that last dragon fight during which she’d nearly lost a leg; after all that, her time was finally to run out – not in battle, but in the hands of her sick lover.

Helena made a last wild and silent plea, touching his pale sweaty face with her calloused palms, which were starting to spark automatically in her distress.

“You’ve – I… can’t.”

The rush of air back into her lungs hit her in a blast, and she gasped in the shock of it. The pressure above her was gone, but she had no mind to think on it. She rolled over, coughing hard, heart pounding hard beneath her ribs. She felt the twinge of a recent wound in her abdomen as she coughed, and her hand instinctively flew to the bandages, but they were secure.

As these seconds of shock passed, and reality spun back into focus, Helena glanced around the room. Cullen was gone. His armor was still here. He seemed to have snatched up his trouser and simply vanished.

The fear lingering from this unexpected attack still gripped her, but a new one was creeping up on her as well. Cullen was now dazed, half asleep, possibly hallucinating, barely dressed, and wandering about Maker knows where on a slightly chilly night. It didn’t bode well.

“Cullen? Where are you? _Cullen!_ ”

Emotions mostly paralyzed by shock, the Inquisitor got numbly to her feet, and quickly slipped on her clothing with fumbling fingers. She did not bother to button up her tunic entirely, resorting to doing so on her way out of quarters. What did it matter if anyone saw the top of her chest exposed, really? Cullen could be severely ill or even in danger, and he was alone.

It was not the first time her Commander had forgotten where he was or who she was, and on occasion he had gotten violently ill from the experience, but this was certainly the first time he had ever attacked her. As terrified as she was by this, her feelings could wait until she knew the man she loved was safe again.

By the Maker’s mercy, the great hall was fairly empty. A few folks who never left still lingered about, and she spotted Varric in the corner, dozing in a chair with his mouth slightly open. She hesitated. She had no idea who to ask. None of these people seemed remotely perturbed, so it was unlikely they’d just witnessed a half-dressed, sweaty, muscular man run by. She ran her hands through her tousled ginger hair and bit her lip, eyes darting over every corner. Could he have returned to his quarters so quickly? It’s possible, she supposed, but – if no one in the hall had noticed him rush past, then –

“Inquisitor?” A tiny voice chimed over the whispers of Skyhold’s nightlife. Helena looked around and then –

“Dagna!”

The dwarf smiled. “I’m usually not up this late, but I was just finishing up this study on – well, that’s not important. Anyhow, I was just thinking about retiring for the night when – well, you won’t believe this, but – Commander Cullen came into the undercroft a minute ago, and - I don’t think he noticed me, but he – ” She looked anxious. “He doesn’t look well. I’m glad I found you out here because now you can talk to him. Otherwise he would have just been down there while I was gone, and – well, even though he’s the Commander, I’m not really so keen on having people in the undercroft without supervision, y’know, I – “

“Yes. Thank you, Dagna,” Helena said breathlessly, and she was very curt, eager to slip into the undercroft and see for herself.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, Your Worship,” Dagna squeaked.

They started to part ways, but Helena paused for a moment, then turned and caught Dagna’s shoulder to get her attention again. When the dwarf looked up at her curiously, Helena smiled gratefully. She felt on the verge of tears. “Seriously. _Thank you_.”

Dagna blinked knowingly. “Oh,” she said plainly. Neither of them needed to say it out loud. The brilliant arcanist had just understood what Cullen meant to Helena. “I hope he’s alright,” she said earnestly. “And – I hope you guys make it.” And at that, she left.

“Me, too,” Helena muttered to herself, then made her way the few paces past the Inquisitor’s throne to throw open the slightly ajar undercroft door, and head inside.

* * *

She spotted him immediately. Cullen was kneeling at the railing, facing out into the abyss of rapid waterfall as he rocked gently. The scars on his muscular back shone eerily in the dim light of this freezing space. Some scars were white, old ones from a life before she ever knew his name. Some were pink – fresh from battles more recent.

Under the roar of the rushing water just beyond the ledge, she knew he could not hear her approaching. She inched nearer, a lump in her sore throat. She wanted to call out to him, fearful of surprising him, but she could not bring herself to speak.

She froze entirely as she neared close enough to realize that he was praying.

“ _With passion’d breath does the darkness creep. In the whisper in the night. The lie upon your sleep_ – ”

His voice was tremulous, and heavy with choked back tears. It tore into her heart like his sword never could, and she gulped down the last of her fear, desperate to help him. “Cullen,” she said quietly – just loud enough to be heard over the frothy sheets of water falling before them.

Helena had expected him to jump in surprise, to stand, or turn around. But instead what she received was far worse. He doubled over, fingers curled in his mussed blonde hair. He was sitting back on his heels, chest to his knees, and worst of all, he was sobbing. “No” he rumbled in a strained voice. “Maker, no. I can’t.”

“Cullen,” she breathed again, moving tentatively to kneel beside him. His face was pale and wet with silent tears.

There was nothing as earth shattering as the sight of Cullen crying. This was a man who she had never seen cry before – a man who normally met his fears with stoicism or rage. This man commanded armies, had endured torture beyond anything she could even imagine, and faced every day with glowering endurance. This was the strongest man she’d ever met, despite how often she saw him falter under the weight of his nightmares and addiction – and now, he appeared broken.

Her heart felt trapped in the back of her throat as she drew a rattling breath. “Cullen,” she rasped. “My love. Cullen. Please, look at me.”

But Cullen did not look up. He merely shook his head, and she watched him grasp at his curls a little more tightly. “I can’t,” he said. “Not now. Not after... I can’t.”

She felt her pulse running madly in her temples, and the ache of the bruises on her neck and the healing wound on her stomach were bothering her, but she swallowed back these earthly sensations, for – Maker’s breath – nothing mattered more than the man before her, the man cradling his own head for dear life. “Cullen. You can. I’m here.”

“No,” he whimpered.

“Yes” She gulped, and reached out to touch his bare shoulder. He was freezing to the touch, his skin coated in a sheet of cooled sweat. “Yes, Cullen. I love you.”

He tensed violently under her fingers, and flinched at her words. “Don’t say that.”

“But I do. I know you are suffering. I know you weren’t in your own head, back in my quarters. We can work past this.”

That was when he looked up, and his expression was terrifying. “You know nothing,” he spat, and the harshness of his tone ran deep through her veins, chilling her and causing her heart to sink. “I saw you. I saw all of it. I saw – ” His brow furrowed, and his face suddenly softened very slightly. “This was what I was always afraid of. This is what I’ve feared since the day we met. That you would turn into… that I would… and… Yes, I – I do know it was not real,” he said, but his voice was very distant.

Relief swept over her. “Yes, Cullen. It wasn’t real. Come back to me.”

“But it _felt_ real. I saw – ” He shook his head, swallowing hard. “I saw everything again. I was there, I – I saw you there, at Kinloch Hold… with the rest of them. You were – ”

She nodded in understanding.

“I killed you.”

“That will never happen.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed, and his expression twisted into one of agony and desperation. He reached out to her swiftly, and she flinched automatically. Immediately, she regretted this. Her lover looked devastated. His eyes were still very wet, but he was not crying anymore. He sat back, looking pained but oddly vacant. “It could,” he said quietly. “It could happen to any mage. You’re all vulnerable.”

She smiled wryly. “Well then I’m lucky I’ve got you to protect me, aren’t I?”

He made a sound of impatience, and stood suddenly. She followed suit, her knees cracking. They stared each other down for a minute, basking in the echo of the water rushing in their ears. “Look how that worked out,” he said in a strained, hoarse voice.

“Stop it, Cullen,” she said. “You still protect me. This is not something that happens regularly. I’m here for you. I understand that you – ”

“No,” he said again. “You don’t understand. This is – I’m – ” He was searching for his words with great difficulty. In an attempt to calm him, she reached out again and took his hand. This time he allowed the contact, and he squeezed her fingers. “I’m not safe for you to be around if I’m so out of control,” he croaked.

Her chest pounded. She shook her head. Her limbs felt numb. “Stop. No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare.”

“My past life – my life as a Templar – it’s hindered any ability I could have had to be close to you. After what I’ve been through, I – ” He looked like an injured puppy, and it made Helena swell with empathy. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was so small at these words. “But I already have, and I fear it is only going to get worse.”

“Then we face the worst together,” she said sharply, straightening her spine. “I won’t hear of this stupid self-sacrificing rubbish. Absolutely not.” She was so firm in resolution she even surprised herself. “Am I angry with you? Am I frightened? Of course. You did hurt me. That can’t be undone. But I do know why it happened, and I am forgiving. I want us to move past this. I need us to. Because – ”

The Commander’s eyes shone. The scar across his upper lip was white and seemed to glow under the grace of the moonlight flickering through the waterfall.

Helena took a deep breath. Now seemed as good a time as any to break out the thoughts she’d been keeping close to the chest. “Because – I love you, and – when I imagine my future after all this is over… after Corypheus is defeated… if we’re both still alive…” One of Cullen’s hands flew to her cheek. His touch sent a shiver through her, causing heat to rise in her lower belly. “All I can see… all I want… is for us to be together, for us to have a life together… maybe a home… maybe a child. I don’t know. But I need you. I need you to be with me. Please. Don’t pull the stupid martyr thing on me and ruin both of our lives over a single incident. Please.”

She could see his chest heaving. His eyes were roaming her face, lingering on her lips. She leaned into his palm on her face, and kissed the sensitive spot on his wrist. He sighed, and when he next spoke, his voice was gentler than it had been all night. “What if it is not just one incident?” He looked terrified. “What if I’m truly a danger to you?”

“Eh. I’ve got a soft spot for Templars,” she joked – and this wasn’t entirely false. “Honestly, I’ve been in danger of Templars since the day I was sent to the Circle back in Ostwick, and that hasn’t kept me from you yet. After what you’ve been through, and all the fear I’m already accustomed to being in – do you really think you can scare me away so easily?”

In spite of himself, the corners of Cullen’s lip twitched. He looked away from her, down at his toes. “You’re too good for me.”

“Nonsense,” she said. “All I am is desperately in love with a very, very stupid – but very, very lovely Commander.” Something seemed to release in him, and he exhaled long and slow, dropping his head to press his forehead to hers. “We will find a way to help you work through this rough patch, my love,” she assured him. “I promise.”

He kissed her, deeply and furiously, hands slipping into her short, soft ginger hair – still tousled from bed. She sighed into his lips, swooning despite the slight leap of fear pulsing beneath her ribs. They could talk more about her fear and his suffering at another time. Right now, there was only his mouth, and the relief that he was okay and not about to abandon her on an impulse.

When they had paused finally for air, and their lips broke free of one another for a brief moment, she smiled sleepily, and blinked up at him. “Come on, my love,” she said, fighting back a yawn. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with some more sleep. It’s dreadfully late, you know.”

He looked ashamed. “I didn’t realize. Of course.”

They made their way back to her quarters, making sure to shut the door to the undercroft behind them, and crawled back into bed. Helena drifted off quickly, entirely worn out from the night’s emotional events. Cullen, however, did not return to sleep, and in the morning when Helena rolled over in the wake of fresh sunlight splashing into the corner of her eye, he was already gone.


	2. The Peacekeepers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor gets a couple of brief lectures from a few of her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much 100% filler, and... basically I just wanted an opportunity to attempt writing other characters.

“Something on your mind, Inquisitor?” Dorian’s voice made her start, and she glanced over her shoulder at him from her spot at the railing of the library. A crow balked overhead, echoing.

“Why do you ask?”

Dorian chuckled and leaned beside her, twiddling his thumbs and staring up to where Leliana was lecturing one of her people. “My dear, you’ve been sullen all morning and you’ve barely laughed at a single thing I’ve said yet today.” He smirked. “And we all know that’s unusual, because quite frankly, I am hilarious.”

Helena grinned in spite of herself. “Quite,” she agreed, tossing him an exasperated but appreciative look.

“So? Would I be correct in assuming it’s something to do with our dear Commander?”

Her stomach turned, and she bit her lip. She had never spoken of her relationship with Cullen to anyone. Leliana and Josephine had guessed at it, around the time when it had all began, but Cullen was a very private person. The most she’d ever spoken about it was the few times Leliana had cornered her and pressed for details – once under the guise of being a protective friend, while the following times were obviously just to sate her shameless curiosity. If Dorian knew, however, then others must know as well. At the very least, Bull would know by now. Varric, too, had a tendency of being a busybody.

“How did you – ?”

“Inquisitor, you’re more transparent than you think you are, as is the good soldier. The way that man looks at you? He practically drools. And it’s hardly escaped anyone’s notice how much time you seem to spend in his office.” He raised his eyebrows. “Besides, Varric sees him coming and going from your quarters fairly frequently – though I imagine there’s a bit more coming than there is going, as the case may be. And don’t think we haven’t heard the reports from the Commander’s darling soldiers about all the screaming that seems to regularly fill his office when they approach his locked door.” He sniggered at the color rising in Helena’s face. “Careful or your skin will soon match that hair of yours, you know.” He wagged a finger warningly at her.

She laughed, momentarily forgetting her anxieties. This was what friends were for, she supposed. She’d never had many before joining the Inquisition, not in the Circle, certainly, but now she wasn’t sure she could ever live without them again.

There was a pause. “So?” Dorian pressed. “ _Is_ this about our good Ser Cullen? Trouble in paradise between the good mage and the ex-Templar, hm?” His eyes twinkled. “So scandalous, you know. I do love a good forbidden romance.”

“He’s not a Templar anymore,” she said with a laugh, but despite her demeanor, her heart was sinking. “So it’s not exactly forbidden.”

“I knew it,” he said, straightening up and clasping his hands together as though he’d just discovered a gold mine.

“What?”

“It’s the Templar thing.”

“What?”

“The thing! Whatever the thing is that’s bothering you. It’s about that, isn’t it?”

She frowned. “I – well – yes,” she confessed, just hoping he hadn’t noticed the faint bruises on the sides of her neck. “Sort of, I mean.” Dorian narrowed his eyes at her, pressing his fingertips together and resting them on his chin contemplatively. He looked expectant. Helena sighed and touched a hand appreciatively to Dorian’s bicep. “It’s just not my business to tell,” she said apologetically. “But ultimately – yes. The fact that I’m a mage does not mix very well with his past, and it’s making things…” she hesitated, “particularly hard for him.”

“I see,” Dorian said slowly, still eyeing her carefully, scanning her face for some sign of weakness. His scrutiny was always something she found most disconcerting about him, but it was part of what made him who he was, and that person was a brilliant friend. “Well, my dear,” he said at last, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clasping his hands together behind his back. “There are _ways_ to work through that sort of strained dynamic you know.”

She cocked her head. “If you’re talking about magic,” she postured a little defensively, but he laughed and waved her comment aside as though swatting a fly.

“No, no, no, no, I’m not talking about magic. The very idea!” The Tevinter shook his head, chuckling. “I mean,” he said in a lowered voice, and she had to lean in ever so slightly to hear him better over the cawing of Leliana’s crows above their heads. “There are ways in which individuals can work through things that’s a little more… pleasing than, say, fighting or engaging in tense conversation.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ways of the flesh, Inquisitor.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, rolling her eyes and blushing fiercely. “I really don’t see how that can help.”

“I imagine he’s the gentle sort.”

“Maker’s breath!” Helena covered her ears and shut her eyes, laughing even as she did. It was true.

“All softness and romance, is he not?”

“Oh, Maker take me, I’m not hearing this!”

Laughing, he pulled her hands away from her head, and held them in front of her, cupping them in his own large ones. He looked so sympathetic, even as he joked. How did he always manage that? She smiled, shaking her head at him and pursing her lips. “But I’m serious, my friend. The man needs to loosen up some. What he needs is to get out that aggression he’s got built up in there. Everyone can see that.”

She smirked. “I’m afraid it runs a bit deeper than what such indulgences can bring.”

“Oh, I know,” Dorian replied dramatically. “But, Inquisitor,” and he was pouting theatrically now, though a smile was evident behind the bizarre expression. “You’d be surprised by how therapeutic a good romp can be, if it’s done correctly. And think of the fun you could have if the Commander were to redirect that mage aggression into a place of sin, yes? And probably far healthier than holding it all in that tightly wound armor he’s always wearing, I imagine.”

Helena rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

“Why, Inquisitor! I’m positively wounded,” he said with a bow, looking playfully somber.

“Oh, shut it, you. I’m leaving.”

“Just think on it!”

“I said shut it!”

* * *

 

The Commander was in the field today, training his troops. Helena wanted desperately to talk to him after the incident last night, and the conversation she’d had with Dorian was hovering above her now like a sneaky cloud, whispering over her shoulder with insufferable suggestions about what she should do to Cullen later. “Shut up,” she muttered to thin air, wishing her thoughts had not been muddled by such a tantalizing notion.

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me to shut it, but I haven’t even opened my mouth yet this time.”

She spun around, then smiled warmly at Varric, who sat down beside her on the courtyard steps and stretched out his legs. The stone was cold and hard beneath her, but it was a welcome distraction from the other physical sensations she was fighting. “How are you, Varric?”

“Ah, you know,” Varric shrugged. After the death of his closest friend some months ago, the dwarf had lost some of his luster. “Surviving’s all we can ask for nowadays, and I guess I’ve got that one covered.” He suddenly squinted as though he was trying to remember something. “I thought – ” He glanced over his shoulder. “That’s right. The kid was coming to talk to you with me. I guess he changed his mind. But now I’ve even forgot – ”

“Ripping through her like secrets in the dark. Digging. Inching. Twitching. It – hurts inside, crawling, it – ” Cole was sitting two steps below them. Had he been here the whole time? He put his hands to his slender throat, pale fingers ghostly as ever. “It burns, screaming, red in my veins, my nightmare – the fire. She is not who she is, now. I wanted to keep her safe but the heart pulls too strong for courage. I – he can’t.”

Varric put a hand on Cole’s bony shoulder. “Hey, kid,” he said. Their friendship had only strengthened since Hawke’s sacrifice. Helena had a feeling he was lonely, and she imagined Bianca wasn’t exactly the most satisfying company in a time like this.

“Varric,” Cole said gently, his expressionless face turning up to both of them so he could see their faces from beneath the brim of his hat. “I almost let you forget.”

“Why’d you do that, kid? It’s just us.”

“Because I like her. I didn’t like what his heart screamed. I didn’t like it and I didn’t want her to hear it too.” His eyes were rather wet.

She gave a great sigh. This was the last thing she needed right now – to be lectured by more of her friends about Cullen. Though being given a talking to by Cole was certainly more cryptic than any other sit-down she’d ever received. “Believe me, Cole, I think I know what you’re talking about, and I promise it’s alright. I can’t escape it. It’s stuff I need to face.”

“No,” Cole said. His eyes were vacant but the shadows beneath them seemed to deepen. “Cold, empty, agony. Love. Aching. Needing. Possession. Sorry.” He shook his head. “But the fear,” he said, and his voice quivered. “His fear. Terror. So much burning around him. He saw her body change, saw her bones crack and crumble until there’s nothing left, and only pain. It’s all pain, and she – you gave them – you hurt them. It was you. He – ”

She swallowed hard, blinking the sun out of her eyes and brushing back the hair in her face while avoiding Cole’s piercing but gentle gaze. “He killed me in his nightmare. I know.”

“He’s been there before,” Cole muttered. “But now it’s spilling. He needs it. He needs to take it.”

“No.” Helena stood before she even knew what she was doing. Varric and Cole automatically followed her queue and stood, too. “He can’t. He’s doing so well.”

“Veins aching. Throat clenching. So thirsty for the strength. So thirsty.” Cole looked her dead in the eye. This was what she had been avoiding. He was too intense to look at. Her heart thrummed. “He hasn’t. But he is considering it again. And it was so loud. Too loud. I couldn’t breathe in the dead of night, it… it – ” He motioned to his neck again, fingers tense as though itching to wrap them around his own throat and squeeze.

Varric interjected. “Cole told me about this first, and I suggested we bring it to you. I didn’t know if you knew. The kid isn’t exactly all that forthcoming with whatever weird shit is being broadcast into that head of his.”

Cole blinked, looking bewildered. “Is there something in my head? Where? Can I get it out?” He began to knock on one side of his head, shaking it at an angle as though trying to let water loose from his ear canal.

Varric shook his head with a low chuckle. “Hey, Princess” he said turning to Helena. “I just worried about you, when the kid started spouting that garbage. I know how much Captain Tight-Ass means to you and I thought you should hear about this stuff since it came up.”

Helena’s expression softened, and she gripped his shoulder reassuringly. “You’re a good friend, Varric.”

He shrugged, looking slightly smug. “I do what I can. Holding onto your friends is some important shit, y’know.” The pain behind his eyes was barely noticeable, but she glimpsed it dancing under just under his brave front.

“Friends,” Cole said suddenly. “Like they were. Varric was her favorite friend. Yes. She – but now there’s we. Slow, dull, ache won’t wash off.” The spirit looked off into the distance. “I wonder if it ever will…”

Varric’s eyebrows shot up. “O… kay… let’s leave it at that, shall we, kid?” He laughed nervously and took the boy by the arm. “Let’s leave her to her duties, yeah? See you later, Your Inquisitorialness.”

“He only wants control,” Cole called back to her dreamily as he was swept away by the dwarf.

Helena glared after them. This day was getting ridiculous, and she really just needed to get back to work.


	3. Unshaken by the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Commander and the Inquisitor speak about the previous night and what it means for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot? What plot?

The sun was shrinking back to cast long dark shadows across Skyhold’s grounds. Helena leaned her weight onto the ledge over which she gazed from the battlements beside Cullen’s office. After a dull afternoon spent discussing plans with Josephine, she was now watching her lover’s return from a slight distance as he and his men filtered into the courtyard. The glow of the setting sun glistened on his armored plating. His face looked particularly lined. He looked so tired. He was frowning, and the deep furrow of his brow made him seem chiseled and wearier than usual.

The Commander was directing his troops. He stood tall, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword and the other held behind his back. He looked regal, much like a Knight. Though perhaps, that was simply her perception of him, as his lover. She wasn’t sure anymore. But then, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore, it seemed.

As his soldiers dispersed, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and pushed herself a little more upright. Her heart was hammering. She needed to speak with him after everything that had happened last night.

To her disappointment however, he did not immediately return to his office. Instead, she watched as Leliana caught him by the arm and proceeded to engage him in conversation. She watched as the spymaster spoke animatedly to him, gesturing emphatically and waving around a book in her hand. He looked uninterested.

Brushing her hair back, Helena gave a great sigh, watching and waiting, growing impatient. It was then that she happened to catch Leliana’s eye. She knew she was turning pink, but the advisor could surely not see that from such a distance. She could plainly see the slight lift to the corners of Leliana’s mouth, however, and watched cautiously as the woman gave Cullen a last large friendly grin, then squeezed his shoulder, said something brief, and turned away. Helena was sure she had seen Leliana wink at her as she moved back towards the main steps, but there was no time to dwell on that. Cullen was looking up at her. He nodded his head toward his office, and she took the indication to wait inside for him.

She was grateful for this. The wind had been bothering her. She was sure she now looked windswept and frazzled. While she waited, she tried to smooth her hair as best she could, cursing mildly under her breath as she struggled. She only stopped fiddling with one particular tangle when she heard Cullen’s footsteps outside his door. She quickly ceased her fidgeting to drop her hands to her sides, and breathed deeply as the door finally swung open.

Helena had expected him to look tired, but – although she could see exhaustion written in every line of his features – he, instead, appeared far more starved for her company than anything else.

“Inquisitor,” he said with a respectful bow of his head, and his voice was a low purr, one that rumbled in her chest. Her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment in the wake of such a delicious sound. She licked her lips as the Commander took slow languid steps around the room, avoiding her direction specifically. He averted his gaze from her, but she could tell he still looked anxious for her closeness.

Tentatively, she took a step towards him as he moved around to stand behind his desk. With the surface now between them, it gave their encounter a strangely professional air. “Commander,” she responded instinctively to this mood, though as soon as it escaped her, she wished she’d said something else. His lips did twitch at that, though. A faint flush came over his neck even as she watched. “I – ”

“Stop,” he said gently. “Before you go on, and I know that you must have much to say, I need – ” He cleared his throat, and absent-mindedly ran a finger through his hair, messing up the neatly styled curls. “I just need to apologize again,” he said softly, bowing to her respectfully. “I know I put you through enough in our time together – all the nightmares and the days spent sick from my dependence on lyrium… but last night was a breaking point. It’s one that should never have happened. I can’t – ” He faltered momentarily, and his voice cracked when he regained his composure. “I can’t leave you,” he said, “but I need you to know: I will try my best to reign in my impulses so I don’t lose it like that if I ever get so lost again… but, if you are too afraid of me now… if you ever start to feel afraid of me… or, if the disaster that I am weighs on you too heavily, I – ” He swallowed, then finally looked up at her. His eyes were shining. “I want you to know, that under such circumstances, I understand, and I do _encourage_ you to leave.” This looked painful to articulate.

Her heart gave a nasty flip. “Cullen,” she said, and her own voice sounded strained and foreign to her. “I’m not leaving you.”

The relief in his posture was noticeable. His hand loosened on his sword, for one thing, and he seemed to stand a little taller. She waited, and then – “Can I speak now?”

“O- of course,” he said quickly. Even as his ears went pink, his expression was becoming desirous. It was deeply distracting.

“Well – see – the thing is – ” This was harder than she thought. “You scared me last night. You know you did. What happened was unacceptable.” And at that, he looked briefly devastated before she hurried to continue. “Unacceptable, meaning, it can’t happen again. But it _is_ forgiven. I know why it happened. And I know how much you suffer.”

Cullen shut his eyes for a moment and looked away again. “How can you?”

She gave a half-smile. “I mean, sort of. Cole. He felt your nightmare.”

Cullen shook his head and chortled gently down at the floor. “I knew we should have gotten rid of him.”

“Hey, he’s my friend now. And he helped me understand you a little better today - though I didn't let him get too into it with me. For your sake.”

“I don’t want you to share this burden. I want to keep you separate.”

“Well – that’s sort of it, Cullen. If we’re together, then you can’t really keep me separate. You can have your privacy, but in trying to shut me out, you’re shutting down an essential part of yourself that affects our relationship. There’s a part of you that still hates mages, and a much larger part – the trauma – that uses such hatred against you in your nightmares. You will be tormented by it forever until you can – I don’t know – find some kind of relief for that particular type of aggression. Until you can accept everything and regain some of that control, your fear of mages might plague what we have indefinitely.”

Cullen raised a hand to his face, and pressed his gloved fingers to his temples. He looked deeply pained.

“I know you feel powerless,” she said slowly, cautiously, “to the traumas of your past… as well as to the lyrium.” He flinched as though she had struck him, and she took a step towards him, so her knees were now flush against his desk. He looked up at her again.  “You need to accept that it’s okay to feel that way, and to remember that I will be here for you no matter what happens. Your feelings cannot push me away, unless that’s... really what you want.”

“No!” he chimed in quickly, before she had even finished her sentence. They stared at each other silently for a minute. As he gazed at her, the hunger on his face grew, and it made her squirm a little. “Harness my aggression, hm?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s part of you that you’ve hidden for fear of losing control completely, after the way you’d been in the past – but suppressing it entirely, well, it’s turning out to make you feel even less in control.” After a beat she added playfully, “Even though you do quite literally command an entire army every day.”

He laughed hollowly. “I hate being told how to cope,” he said, but he didn’t sound angry. Helena smirked.

“Too bad, Commander” she sassed, crossing her arms and staring her lover down.

His breath seemed to catch at that. They were silent once more, and they simply gazed at one another, a tension building in the air between them. A couple of minutes past, but not before he had scoured her body with his eyes as though he could consume her just by looking. She crossed her legs while she stood, starting to feel mildly uncomfortable, in only the best of ways. But she wasn’t finished yet. “I have to ask, my love. I’m sorry.” She swallowed and flicked her eyes away from his for a moment. “Did you take lyrium again?”

Cullen emitted a long slow exhale as his face grew dark. “No,” he said hoarsely, his voice impossibly low, rumbling at just the right timbre to make her feel weak. “I wanted – ” He looked deeply ashamed. “I almost did.” Helena watched him clench his jaw a few times, as though he were trying to bite back the memory.

She smiled, her eyes very soft. “I’m very proud of you.” He looked grateful. “It’s not easy to say no to yourself. You’re doing so well.”

“Maker’s mercy,” he sighed suddenly. “May I just kiss you already?”

Her lips twitched at this, the surprise a very welcome one. “Please.”

He move around the desk in just two steps, and their mouths met at last for the first time in almost a day. She exhaled through her nose, sighing with relief against his marvelous tongue, and he groaned – a deep, guttural sound that had her heart fluttering. This was not the direction she had anticipated the evening going – but she certainly would not complain.

Her hands roamed the length of his torso, feeling the full armor and moaning slightly into Cullen’s desperate mouth. That armor was so sexy to her. She couldn’t even explain why. Though maybe it was –

Something suddenly occurred to her. A string of hints over the last few months had led her to this moment of clarity that she would not have reached if it weren’t for Dorian. _Damn you, Dorian_.

Leaning into Cullen’s strong arms as he pressed her closer, she broke her lips away from his to leap at the chance while she was feeling momentarily bold, and whispered weakly, nervousness coursing through her, “ _Commander_.”

The gamble was rewarded generously, much to her relief. His immediate response seemed almost instinctive. She wasn’t sure even he could have predicted his reaction. The hand that had been on her face went rigid at this single utterance, and suddenly his fist was balled up in her hair, tugging her scalp and forcing her head back so her tender throat became exposed to his wanting mouth. She clung to his armored chest for dear life, heart hammering beneath her ribs as she felt his tongue trace the faint bruises around her neck. The sensation was too overwhelming. It sent a shudder down her spine and between her legs. She was shaking. “Commander,” she moaned again, and she felt his hips rock slightly forward. “Please. _More_.”

She could not see it, but his eyes rolled up into his head as the resulting moan escaped him. With no effort at all, with little more than a certain word in a certain context, she had undone him. He was unraveling, and an animal was screaming inside him as though it had been on a leash for years and was finally released. _Relief for your aggression_ , he remembered, and the voice in his head sounded strangely like Helena’s.

Something clicked. She could practically sense the gears falling into place in Cullen’s mind. This was what he needed right now. He needed control. He needed control, and he needed it to be _controlled_ : power without the pressure that came from commanding an army.

She giggled slightly as he walked her backward until she was leaning against his desk again. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” she purred, rapping her fingers on the hardwood she was now practically seated on, but he pulled back, looking thoughtful.

“No,” he said slowly. “I want this time to be private. Too many men bursting in here every few minutes - it wouldn’t be right. Not this time. Not today.” She kissed his jaw delicately while he spoke, entangling her fingers in the ornamental fur he always donned. It was then that he moved away from her, backing away, color high in his cheeks but wearing an expression entirely new to her. He didn’t just want to have her; he didn’t just want to fuck her. She knew _that_ hungry face. No, today – he looked ravenous, as though he planned on devouring her whole, sinking his teeth into her and twisting her into a new shape entirely, to leave his mark and make her his. This was an expression that made her insides boil. He wanted to _possess_ her.

She loved it.

He stood tall, staring her down with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Remove your blouse,” he ordered dryly.

With a respectful half bow, she responded dutifully, “As you say, Commander.” His lips parted with an intake of breath. How ripe that bottom lip appeared. She wanted to have it between her teeth again. Her fingers fumbled as her thoughts distracted her, and he tutted at her, shaking his head. He didn’t even crack a smile.

“Pay attention,” he said sternly, and the gruffness of this interaction was sending chills between her legs, making her pulse and ache for his attention.

“Yes, Ser,” she breathed, and it was barely audible.

“What was that?” he snapped, looking fierce and excited.

“I – Y-yes, Ser!” she repeated, a little louder and more firmly.

He smiled. “Ah. Good girl,” he hissed gently.

Maker, that voice. Her presence of mind was lost under a haze of bliss. If this was what he wanted – if power and control was what he needed, then he could have it… to a point, of course.

As she reached her last button – _Andraste preserve me, why does this thing have so many damn buttons?_ – she instinctively moved to the leather at her waist, but he raised his eyebrows at her, and she hesitated, fingers lingering on the ties.

Cullen’s eyes raked over her naked torso, and he looked deeply critical while pleased, in the manner of a captain inspecting a recruit’s armor. “Did I say you should remove your breeches?” He sounded very stern.

She shook her head. He looked pointedly at her. “Excuse me?”

“Er – No, Commander.”

His grin was a just reward for her obedience. It melted her. “Much better,” he said soothingly. “Now, up the ladder – if it pleases you.” He added this more softly, deliberately, looking concerned for a moment.

A silent understanding passed between them. No, this was not too much. Yes, she loved it. No, she didn’t want it to stop. This was a game she was eager to play with him. “As you say, Commander,” she sighed meaningfully, and moved on jelly legs to the ladder that led to Cullen’s messy quarters.


	4. Fire That Did Not Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen takes control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last, I give you the shameless smut. Warning for D/s, rough sex, face slapping, and - potentially terrible writing. Have fun. Forgive the abrupt ending, too, please.

She could actually feel her pulse thumping all over her body. Cullen had always aroused her well enough, but this – this was something new. It frightened her a little, the intensity of this developing sexual dynamic, but despite her own surprise and fear, she wanted it _desperately_.

Standing aimlessly in the center of his room, she waited, gazing at the broken roof with a lazy smile. When she heard the creak of the ladder behind her, she turned slowly to face him, hands at her sides, not wanting to act without command. Though, she wondered, what would his reaction be, when he was in such a state? Would he correct her disobedience? Tell her off? Let it go?

Cullen’s armor was especially beautiful under the dappled sunset glow shining through his patchy roof. The sparkle of his breastplate beneath the severity of his expression and his lightly tousled curls, she thought he had never looked more regal. Breathlessly, she voiced this. “Commander, you look – magnificent.”

He inched towards her until there was almost no space between them. His hot breath on her forehead was so reassuring. “In present company...” He lifted a leather-clad hand and traced one of her nipples. She bit her lip. “...I am outshone by far.” The Commander trailed both hands up and down her sides, tickling her slightly, causing her to whimper. “You are _radiant_ ,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Where I would be, or even who I would be.”

Helena smiled shyly, and pressed her bosom to the cool smooth surface of her lover’s armor. Pushing herself onto tiptoe, she kissed him, slowly and sensually, until his breathing was ragged and he was tugging her closer to him with a desirous groan as though he might absorb her. In a moment of pause for breath, Cullen pushed aside Helena’s short hair and ran his tongue along the crescent of her ear. She moaned shamelessly as the sensation shot straight through her, and she had to bury her hands in his decorative vest again to stop from clawing at her own trousers to cast them aside and beg him for what she wanted. ”You,” he rumbled, “are mine.” She gasped slightly between her already heaving breaths, and he gave the smallest laugh – a low purring sound that left her thirsty for the taste of him again. She licked her lips, trying to resume kissing him.

Before she could find his mouth, however, Cullen had backed away again. He admired her for a minute while she shivered in the breeze of his very exposed living space. Then he said, “Stop me if this is too much for you.” He blinked rapidly, looking suddenly a bit tense. “I mean, I don’t – that is to say, I’ve never – this is – ”

“I think I understand,” the Inquisitor responded warmly, “and you don’t have to worry. I will stop you if you go to far. But for now…” She bit her lip and ran her fingers through her hair. “If you’ll have me, I am yours. If this is what you want, I grant you free reign over my body, and I do hope you will accept me.” Cullen looked deeply moved, then swallowed, and she watched his expression change dramatically within an instant as though he had just put on a mask.

She was impressed by how serious he looked then, while all the heat in her seemed to be rising in mortification and arousal. What composure the man had. He was the perfect Commander.

“You may remove your shoes and breeches now,” he said curtly, looking contemplative, “but leave your smallclothes on.” His eyes glittered. “That is for me to attend to.”

Pining for his kiss again, she began to unfasten the fabric around her waist. His eyebrows rose. “What do we say?” his tone was extremely condescending. It rattled her to her core.

With a deep shuddering breath she said, “Yes, Commander,” and he closed his eyes at her words, smiling. He seemed serene. It was maddening, for all she wanted was his hands on her. Cullen, however, seemed to have other plans.

Her breeches fell softly to the floor, pooling around her ankles. She stepped out of them, and kicked them aside, biting her lip. Waiting.

Cullen’s mouth was pulled into almost a sneer. He looked excited, but also power-mad. She hoped this kind of play was healthy for him.

Any doubt she had in that moment suddenly disintegrated when he said quietly, “On your knees, my love.”  She went without hesitation. This, she thought, felt wonderful. People knelt at her feet on a daily basis, and from the very beginning it had made her mildly uncomfortable. Now, she was used to it, and even comfortable in her role as an authority figure and chosen one – but this? This was right. She knelt for her lover, and he approached her gently to stroke her hair. Her heart was aching as she nuzzled into his gloved palm. “What a good girl you are,” he cooed, and her insides melted. She was losing herself in this; becoming drunk on her submission – high on his control.

She was at eye level with Cullen’s hips, but she didn’t dare guess what he would do next, for Cullen had always been the unpredictable sort. Instead, she simply gazed up at him sheepishly, smiling and waiting. His stance was one of immense power. He could likely engage Thedas itself to bend to his will, she imagined.

He took her chin in his hand, and roughly turned her head from side to side as though inspecting cattle. Wordlessly, he then stepped back, his arms crossed. His look was so sinister she found her heart thumping painfully from a bizarre concoction of fright and arousal.

Then, “I want you to touch yourself.”

The Inquisitor raised her eyebrows. Her mouth fell slightly open. “What?” she asked instinctively, wishing she hadn’t as soon as the word escaped her.

“I’m sorry?” Cullen snapped.

“I – nothing.”

“That wasn’t nothing. I believe you questioned me. Is touching yourself something you are averse to?”

“No, it’s just – ”

He gave a pointed shrug. “Well, then, I see no reason for you to be questioning my order.” Cullen moved to squat before her kneeling form, so that they were eye to eye. “Who is in charge here, my love?”

Helena squirmed. “You are, Commander,” she said shakily.

His voice dropped to the tiniest whisper, the flush in his cheeks spreading. “Then do as I say, slip your fingers into your knickers, and give yourself pleasure. Feel yourself grow wet under my command. Feel my effect without even my touch.” His very presence seemed to hum with longing, and it slew her.

She let out a deep audible moan at his words, her hand already reaching for its goal. “ _Yes_ , Commander. As you say, Commander.”

Her fingers found her clit immediately, and she sighed, struggling not to buck against her own hand, already wild with need and desperate to feel him inside her. She bit her lip and began to rub gently, allowing herself a slow build of that rippling sensation. Her eyes fluttered closed automatically, but he took her face in hand again so they snapped back open. “Eyes on me,” he demanded fiercely.

“Y- yes, Commander.”

“Tell me, my love,” he said gently in a deep voice, “Would you enjoy it if I were to hurt you?” His eyes flashed. “After last night, I know – ”

“Yes,” she replied without thinking. His unconscious attack during that flashback was the furthest thing from her mind.

He seemed to swell at this. “We can discuss this… futher,” he said with a slight twitch to his lips in the subtlest of smiles. He stroked her cheek delicately with the back of his hand.

“Just go easy on me, whatever we do.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, looking overcome.

Helena cleared her throat nervously. “May I ask, Commander?” He smirked as she used his title again. “Have you… been this way… you know what I mean… before? I mean, with… others?”

Cullen’s blush spread, and he seemed to shrink a little. “No,” he admitted. “But I’ve… envisioned it. The idea is so…” He searched for the right word. “Freeing.”

“I understand.” The Inquisitor smiled. After a brief pause, she took a deep breath, and spoke what he needed to hear. “I am yours, Commander. Your will is my command, and my body is yours to steer. Please…”

Licking his lips, looking a little dizzy with need, Cullen got to his feet again. “Continue,” he ordered, and the brooding demeanor he wore made him look dark and distant – a novel look which fueled Helena’s fire as she rolled her fingers over her clit and teased her opening gently.

Helena’s breathing was shallow. She was growing light headed. “Please,” she breathed. “Commander, I need – ”

“ _You_ need?” He looked malicious in the sweetest way. “What you need,” he said slowly, “is to listen, and to obey. You know I will take care of you.”

She felt weak, and almost teetered over as her fingers elicited a violent pulse at her center. “Y – _yes_ , Commander.”

To Helena’s great relief, Cullen began to slowly unfasten his armor. They never broke eye contact, though part of her desperately wanted to rake her gaze over the emerging skin of his chest.  His undershirt was so flimsy that it hung from his shoulder, exposing the most delicious flesh there, scarred but soft, and oh so tantalizing.

When he finally pulled the shirt over his head, she could not resist. She drank in the sight of his bare torso hungrily, moaning and thrusting slightly against her hand. Maker, those muscles –

It was impossible to remove her gaze from his biceps as they worked at the fastenings of his breeches. She did not even notice that her jaw was hanging open slightly, and her mouth watering.

The clunk of his boots being kicked off snapped her out of it, and she quickly shut her mouth and stared back up into his intense face. He was shaking his head “There is so much I want to do to you,” he whispered darkly. “Thank you for starting us down this road.”

Helena smirked. “Any time, Ser,” then she licked her lips to ground herself as the pleasure rose, making her skin prickle and the magic build in her fingertips. She had a nasty habit of conjuring sparks at her palms when she experienced intense physical sensations. It was not one of Cullen’s favorite things about her, but he put up with it. He approached her just as she stopped touching herself to avoid going over the edge, and when she felt his hand on her cheek, she shuddered. “Commander," she sighed against his hand.

“I’ve always wondered,” he said calmly, “is that something all mages experience? Or is that just you?”

“What, Ser?”

“The magic you produce when aroused or upon climax,” he clarified. 

Chuckling, she shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never been with a mage and I’ve never asked anyone about it, either.”

He smirked. “It’s oddly arousing,” he said.

The Inquisitor gaped up at him. “I always thought you hated it!”

“Well, I’m not fond of magic... obviously,” he admitted with a casual shrug and slight blush, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, “but there’s something empowering about it.”

“Empowering?” She took his thumb between her teeth for a moment, then drew it fully into her mouth and sucked on it sensuously.

The former Knight-Captain drew in a sharp breath, his eyes shutting for a moment as he reveled in the sensation. “I mean – ” He cleared his throat. “I was a Templar. Not that you… need reminding of that, but… I mean... When I’m bedding you and you’re writhing beneath me, completely overcome so that you start to explode and lose control of your power – it gives me a sort of… rush of control over that power. Now that I say it out loud it sounds really stupid and doesn’t even make sense.” He laughed. She smiled against his hand. “Maker, you are just so beautiful.”

The tender touch on her cheek was lovely, but she wanted more. She wanted passion. She wanted… Well, honestly? With the mood they'd set? She wanted _violence_. Taking the earlier hint from him, she broke out into a grin, eyes dancing in the soft light. “Hit me.”

He blanched. “I’m sorry?”

“Hit me, Commander,” she said more confidently. “You said you wanted to hurt me. Your passion for control is finally coming to light. I have a feeling you would like it. So hit me.”

“But – what if I _really_ hurt you?”

“I’ve taken a lot of hits in my life,” she reminded him gently. “I’m quite certain I can survive a slap from someone who is exercising some self control.”

He gulped, but his chest was heaving and his gaze was burning greedily. “You really… want that?”

She held the hand at her face, and looked directly into his eyes. “ _Hit me_.”

The whack upon her cheek was quick, and it stung – but not as much as she knew it could have. Cullen was incredibly strong. She knew he was withholding much of his power to hit her in safe manner. But – “You can hit me a little harder than that, y’know,” she teased, smirking.

“Cheeky girl,” he murmured with a rumble, and hit her again. The smack burned, and immediately upon collision, she felt herself gushing between her legs. She loved it just as much as he did.

“Again, please, Commander,” she panted, and he obliged, causing her to lurch at the impact and cry out in pain. He bit his lip hard as his erection strained painfully against his smalls.

Cullen knelt before her so that they were both on their knees, facing one another. He violently tugged her head back and she whined as he forced her movements. “Continue to touch yourself,” he commanded, and she squirmed at this, returning her trembling hand to its rightful place. Her other hand wandered and came to rest on Cullen’s chest.

But the Commander seemed to have other ideas. He yanked her hand away and, pressing himself close to her, pinned it behind her back. He growled into her ear, “I did not give you permission to touch me, now, did I? Hm?”

“N – n – no! C – Commander!” She was struggling to speak. Her entire body felt alight with fire, and she simply thanked the Maker that she had never actually burst into flames during these sorts of encounters.

He dug his teeth into the nape of the mage’s neck and pressed his tongue into the flesh there. Her panting was growing high pitched, punctuated with small whining moans. He grinned against her delicious flushed skin. “Are you close, my darling?”

She nodded rigorously. “Y- yes – Commander – ”

Then there was bliss. Cullen released her hand from behind her back so that his fingers could join hers. She moaned loudly, shamelessly, as the Commander sunk two fingers deep into the soft wet folds. She continued to rub her clit, but shakily, as Cullen began to fuck her violently with his large, calloused hand.

Moments later, she lost all strength as the orgasm consumed her. She could not see or hear or feel anything but Cullen’s hands, his chest on hers and his mouth pressed needily against her neck. “M- Maker… take me…” she cried, and her booming volume echoed slightly through his quarters. Her hands were crackling with electricity, and his heart leapt as the air around her sizzled. He laughed, low and sweet, tongue still lavishing the spot at her neck, which was becoming red. “F- Fuck…”

“Something you need?” he said casually, muffled against her flesh.

“Oh, you – ” She laughed, sounding exasperated. “Fuck me,” she demanded. “Maker forgive me, I need you to fuck me. Now.”

He pulled back and hit her again. She yelped. “So demanding,” he said, and his voice was so condescending it was utterly infuriating at a time like this. He withdrew his fingers from their sticky sheathe, and brought them to his mouth to taste her.  “Maker, you taste so good,” he groaned, sucking the mess from his knuckles and closing his eyes to revel in it. “I love making you come,” he said. “And it’s even better… like this… when you’re… so… ”

She smirked. “Submissive?” she suggested playfully.

There was a lump in his throat, and his erection was pulsing furiously. “Yes. That.” Licking his lips, Cullen got to his feet.

Helena wriggled. “Pease, Ser,” she panted. Sweat was beading on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. Her knees were weak. As he stood, she worried she might topple over without him holding her steady. But she remained planted where she was, trembling, waiting for his next command.

“I know,” Cullen teased. “I know, my love. I know. I know exactly what you need.” He moved around her slowly, and she watched his bare feet as he went languidly to stand behind her. She shook from head to toe now, longing for him to touch her again, but slightly nervous at not being able to see him. She closed her eye, waiting and listening. The unmistakable sound of his breeches crumpling to the floor met her ears, and she had to bite back a whine. She had never heard his voice so low or gruff as when he said, “Bend over,” and his words controlled her like nothing else. She bent at the hips without a conscious thought, responding to him instinctively. Her hands came to rest on the floor, holding herself in place.

The moment stretched into minutes it seemed, and the longer she waited, the more it felt like an eternity. The cold air felt bizarre on the exposed, hot, swollen flesh between her legs. She could feel herself dripping a little down her thigh.

Suddenly she felt him nudge against her opening, warm and throbbing, very gently as though testing the waters. She let out a high-pitched cry in response to such a delicate touch, resisting the mounting urge to thrust backwards and pull him in closer. No – today he needed her complacency.

Her minor outburst fueled him. With no warning, one wide hand clamped over her mouth to quiet her, tugging her head back slightly, and she was filled. Her eyes rolled back, and she let out a stifled moan against Cullen’s palm. He did not want to keep her waiting any longer – and he could barely stand it, either.

The frenzied thrusts shocked her. Her elbows almost gave out as he slammed into her, over and over again, grunting like a mad animal. She was sobbing into his hand, aching to touch him, but he held her there steadfast, silenced and vulnerable while he fucked her into a state of oblivion. She could feel the floorboards growing hot beneath her palms and she thought briefly that she hoped she wasn’t conjuring actual fire this time – but soon all thought was wiped from her mind as she felt his lips and teeth scrape along the landscape of her back.

At last his hand moved from her face, so her screams reverberated into the night, and he laughed between his loud sighs of pleasure. The hand moved to rest on her throat, in the gesture of one about to strangle, but he made no move to do so. The simple pressure of his hand at her neck had her back arching. She felt so helpless; so weak. “Commander!” she cried. “P- please! Commander!”

His moans sounded strained, as though this was taking all of his effort not to burst already. In fact, he had to stop, otherwise –

He grabbed her round the middle, and flipped her onto her back. It was rough, but gentle enough that the collision did not hurt her. He linked one arm under her knee and pressed it upward so that her legs were spread almost too wide for comfort. She looked pained, but her smile was one of bliss. “Now,” Cullen said quietly as he entered her forcefully, watching her wince. “I want you to recite… Transfigurations. You know the one.” He grunted huskily, burying himself in her and then withdrawing at every other word.

She was so red in the face at this request that he almost laughed. “I… what…?”

 _Slap_. She shrieked in surprise, but he felt her constrict around him so he knew she loved it. “You heard me,” he growled, leaning in close to take her bottom lip between his teeth.

The whimper she emitted was heavenly, and sent pulses through him – keeping him on the edge. Helena looked nervous, but obeyed her Commander despite it. “ _These… truths… the Maker has revealed to me_ ,” she began, and he pulled out of her again with a sigh. She was clawing at the floor beneath her, looking ravenous and frustrated. With a whine, she went on – “ _As there is but one world, one life, one death… there is… but one god, and…_ ”

Hot, wet, dripping – colors burst before her eyes. Cullen’s mouth had found her cunt and he was devouring her. “ _He…_ ” Nothing had ever felt so wonderful as his tongue glazed over her entrance and darted between the folds sparingly while most of the attention lavished her clit. The ecstasy roared in her, shaking her to the core. “ _Is… our Maker!_ ” Without thinking about it, she slinked a hand into Cullen’s delightful curls, attempting to fuck his mouth. He was having none of it, however, and she received a hard bite to the inner thigh as he slammed her hand to ground again, clutching her wrist tightly. Under his firm grip, her fingers sparked fervently, and she smelled burning wood. He tightened his hold, and quickened his tongue.

“ _Th- they are sinners… who have given their love to false gods_ ,” she went on, and her voice was so high and breathy she did not recognize it.

She felt his hands slide up her forearms, holding her down as though he knew what she was feeling. And as she reached the next verse, she could not control it anymore. “ _Magic exists to sssseeeeerve… maaann_ … oh…ohgodohgodohgod,” and she was coming hard against his tongue, for the second time that night already. Surely she must be flying. This could not be real. This must be the fade, or even heaven. The real world could never feel this good.

He withdrew his mouth from her as she continued to orgasm, and without warning his head was replaced by his hips as he shoved into her again with a groan. “ _Foul and corrupt are they_ ,” she said, and now he joined her: “ _Who have taken His gift and turned it against His children. They shall be named Maleficar. Accursed ones. They shall find…_ ” She cried out as she pulsed hard around him, feeling him grow weak above her. “ _No rest…_ ” Cullen shuddered and closed his eyes, mouth hanging open as he panted, thrusting into her with such force that she was being lurched with every motion. Reaching a hand up to touch his face, she traced the scar on his lip as they said, in unison: “ _In this world, or beyond._ ”

Moaning loudly, Cullen collapsed over her, propped up by only his elbows, practically crushing her beneath his heavy muscular form as he came. She could feel him filling her, and feel him vibrating with the pleasure. The moment was long, and the rush of relief they both felt was incredible.

It took him a while to catch his breath, and he refused to move. “I think,” Cullen said after a bit, still unwilling to withdraw from her. “This was… exactly what I needed.” His tone was playful, but his voice still very low.

She laughed. Both of them were coated in a layer of sweat. Despite being sticky and suddenly a little bit cold (despite how their flesh still burned), they continued to lie there, naked, holding one another on the floor. He slipped out of her at last as he shifted so that he could lay beside her and allow her to rest her head on his chest. Tracing one of his particularly gnarled scars, she sighed. “That was… magnificent.”

“I’m so glad you thought so.”

"And I only burned the floor a little!" 

He smiled.

“And you’ve never…?”

Cullen half shrugged. He was running a hand lovingly up and down Helena’s side. “Never. I mean, I’ve fantasized about being… whatever... sexually very dominant, I guess… once or twice, but I just… never thought it was something I could actually… _do_.”

“Well you can,” Helena chuckled. “Very well, might I add.” He kissed the top of her head, and she curled her toes happily. “So,” she said slowly. “Did that feed your unconscious Templar need to dominate a mage?” She looked up at him, wrinkling her nose with a teasing expression.

Smirking, he said, “We’ll see. Now I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

That was when they both heard it: the unmistakable creak of the floorboard downstairs, and the sound of his office door shutting quietly. “Oh, Maker’s breath,” he said, falling back and running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair.

Helena sat up, and swung a leg over his torso, so that she was straddling his stomach playfully. His eyes fell on her breasts. “What does it matter if anyone heard us?” she said with a laugh. “I love you. Let all of Skyhold hear us. I’m proud of how well you make me scream.”

She had never seen Cullen so red in all her time with him, and she reveled in the sight now, giggling.

“Come, my love,” she said, sliding off of him again and getting to her feet. She extended a hand to him, and he followed her, groaning with the struggle to stand. Both their knees were very weak. Thankful that the bed was only feet away, they only needed to remain standing for a brief moment. “Bed,” she said happily, falling face forward onto the mattress.

Cullen crawled into the bed beside her. He could hear Helena’s breathing indicate she was already halfway to sleep. Wrapping an arm around her and tangling his legs with hers, he shuffled a bit to get comfortable. He expected he’d be up a while longer, however; his usual fear of dreams to come was most likely to keep him wide-awake until the next nightmare swept him away.

He barely had time to ruminate on this thought, however, for it was mere minutes before he drifted off and the Commander found himself in, what he was pleased to recount later as, his first dreamless sleep in months.


End file.
